All Sorts of Dogs
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Two year old Rose has a request that Ron doesn't quite understand. That doesn't stop him from trying to give his daughter what she wants.:: family fluff for Ash


_For Ash via the Monthly Oneshot Exchange (Ron Weasley, hot dogs)_

* * *

"Dog dog!"

His daughter's voice draws Ron away from the _Daily Prophet_ article. Ordinarily, nothing could keep him away from reading about the Cannons' shocking victory against Pride, but Rose is special enough. He sets the newspaper down and gives Rose his full attention. "Dog dog?" he repeats, unsure of what she wants.

The two year old nods, a grin spreading over her freckled face. "Dog dog!" she repeats, clapping her hands together eagerly. "Dog dog!"

Ron still doesn't know what she's asking for. She's too young to be able to properly articulate herself, and he's left to guess and hope for the best. Ordinarily, he'd ask Hermione; somehow, his wife seems to be able to understand their daughter's gibberish. Unfortunately, Hermione's day off had been canceled when an emergency came up at the Ministry, so Ron will have to wait at least another six hours before she can translate.

"Um… Oh! Do you want Mr. Bones?" he asks.

He hurries to the toy chest and digs through the large pile of toys. Really, he doesn't understand how she could have so many when she only plays with about four of them. "I found Mr. Bones!" he announces, plucking a shaggy blue dog from the mountain of plush animals. It had been a gift from Percy, and Rose seems to love it. "See?"

He hands his daughter the dog. She holds it, her brown eyes studying it for a moment. Ron exhales deeply and starts back to the table, ready to finish the article about the Cannons.

"No!" Rose cries, tossing Mr. Bones to the side. "Dog dog, Daddy! Da' not dog dog!"

Ron looks at the discarded toy, a frowning on his lips. Rose has always loved Mr. Bones. He can't imagine what else "dog dog" could mean.

"Do you want a dog?" he asks. "Dog dog?"

Rose nods excitedly. "Dog dog!"

Ron considers for a moment. He and Hermione _have_ been talking about getting a dog in the near future. If Rose is so sure that she wants one now… Well, he's sure his wife will understand.

With a shrug, he pulls Rose into his arms, offering her a bright smile. "Let's get you ready, then we'll go get you a dog," he says.

The little girl giggles, gripping Ron's shirt and pulling herself closer to him. "Yay!" she squeals. "I wan' dog dog!"

…

Choosing a dog is hard. As Ron and Rose pass through and look at all the sweet, barking puppies and dogs, he finds himself wishing he had waited for Hermione. She would have a list of pros and cons for each breed and age group.

"Dog dog?"

"Yeah, Rosie," Ron tells her. "We're getting a dog."

She scrunches her nose, and Ron almost laughs at how adorable the little creases in her face are. "Not dog dog," she groans.

Ron doesn't understand. One day, he'll get Hermione to teach him how to decipher the little cute nonsensical strings of gibberish. For now, though, he'll just wing it. By now, he's an expert at that.

"Come on," he says, leading her along. "Let's find us the perfect doggy."

…

Ron watches as Rose pets Maggie, the little Yorkshire terrier mixed pup they'd settled on. A proud smile tugs at his lips. Maybe he struggles to understand his daughter sometimes, but he's managed this time. Rose looks so happy as Maggie runs around her, yipping and panting excitedly.

"See, Rosie? I told you I'd get you a dog dog," he says.

"Da' not dog dog!" his daughter says, though she holds Maggie in her arms and grins happily. "I wan' dog dog!"

Now, Ron feels hopelessly lost. The plush toy hadn't been the right thing. Even an actual dog had been incorrect.

Groaning, Ron sinks into his chair, resting his head against the table. He has no idea how to give Rose what she wants.

…

"You… You adopted a dog?" Hermione says as Maggie circles her curiously. The puppy seems to approve of the newcomer; she barks happily, her fuzzy tail wagging. "Why?"

Ron feels heat creep into his cheeks and spread into his ears. Now that he thinks about it, impromptu pet adoption may not have been the most logical thing he's ever done. Still, Maggie is happy, and Rose seems to love the new addition. "Meet Maggie. I thought Rose wanted one," he answers. "She kept asking for a 'dog dog', and I panicked."

For a moment, Hermione just stares at him. After several seconds, a smile cracks across her face, and she laughs softly. "Dog dog?" she echoes; Ron nods. "She didn't mean a dog."

"Yeah, I sort of guessed that when she said Maggie wasn't a dog dog," he snorts.

"Dog dog! Mummy, dog dog!" Rose says, jumping up and down. Maggie joins her, her bark mixing in with the little girl's cheers. "Dog dog."

"What the hell is a dog dog?" Ron asks.

Hermione has that look on her face. By now, Ron is used to it. It's the same look she wears whenever her clever mind picks up on something that Ron doesn't understand. "Oh, Ronald," she says fondly, starting for the kitchen.

Ron follow behind her, curious. How does she always manage to know what Rose wants? He wonders if Hermione possesses some strange parental magic that he doesn't.

"Hot dog," she says with a soft laugh. "Rose has decided she likes hot dogs, but she can't quite say it."

"Oh."

Rose appears in the doorway, her eyes bright as she sees the pack of hot dogs Hermione has set on the counter. "Dog dog! Mag, dog dog!" she tells the puppy.

"I'm an idiot," Ron sighs, though a small smile quirks his lips.

"But a cool idiot," his wife teases, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Not many people would just rush out to adopt their kid a dog like that."

"It wasn't what she wanted."

Though he can laugh it off, he still feels ridiculous. He couldn't even figure out what Rose wanted. Part of him feels like a failure.

Hermione shakes her head and casts a spell to heat the hot dogs quickly. "Watch this." To their daughter, she says, "Rose, do you love Maggie?"

"Luh' Mag!" Rose agrees before dropping to the floor and letting the puppy lick her face.

"See? It might have been the wrong type of dog, but you did something right," Hermione tells Ron as she summons a pack of hot dog buns.

For a moment, Ron doesn't feel completely convinced. One look at Rose, still laughing as Maggie continues licking her, makes him reconsider. Maybe he's not a perfect parent, but his daughter is happy, and that's all that matters.


End file.
